by Andrea Kane
Stephen heard Connor come in.
Wide awake, he leaned back against his pillow, folding his arms behind his head and staring at the ceiling, as Nancy tossed fitfully beside him.
He hoped that Connor's date had been a success and Julia Talbot would now be distracted from her crusade to be Brian's guardian angel.
But she was the least of his problems.
He hadn't managed to bring around enough of the council members. He'd spent all day trying. He was still one vote short. Philip Walker wasn't interested in his efforts; he was interested in results. Unfortunately, he wasn't going to get any—not the ones he wanted. Which meant he'd follow through on his threat. He'd slash Stephen's career to ribbons, maybe even make sure he wound up in jail.
Stephen could just imagine the headlines—and his father's reaction to them.
Well, it wasn't going to happen. Not in this lifetime.
He'd tried to do this the easy way, but it wasn't meant to be. He couldn't finagle the contract the way Walker wanted it. So an alliance was out
He'd have to gain leverage another way. He'd launch a subtle counterattack. It was risky, but he needed insurance. And he had a pretty good idea how to get it.
He'd have to work fast. He'd make a few phone calls tomorrow, arrange a meeting for first thing Monday morning.
Tune to fight fire with fire.
* * *
13
April 8
1:05 P.M.
Two men in two days.
Robin would be so pleased with her improved social life, Julia thought wryly, watching Greg take a bite of his omelette. Well, she herself wasn't pleased. She was exhausted and confused, and her insides were twisted around like a pretzel.
The restaurant was lovely, the food ample and well prepared, but she was no more in the mood for brunch than she was in the mood for skydiving.
She'd gotten three hours of sleep max, and her head was pounding like a hammer. Worse, she was no closer to figuring out what to say or do than she'd been last night. She'd stared at her bedroom ceiling all night, trying to sort out what had happened between her and Connor. No, that wasn't true. She knew what had happened. What she didn't know was what it meant or how she was going to handle it.
And what should she say to Greg? By the way, I went out with another guy last night, and I'm so damned attracted to him that if he hadn't had the self-control to stop, 1 probably would have had sex with him right there against my foyer wall even though it was only our first date? That would go over well, especially since Greg had been fervently courting her for more than a month now and she'd scarcely let him kiss her good night.
But even if she left out the graphic details, how could she explain what was going on between her and Connor when she herself didn't know?
She had to tell Greg something. Not only because she felt it was the right thing to do but because Connor was the mayor's brother and Greg would inevitably find out she was seeing him.
If she kept seeing him. That was a whole other can of worms. Connor had been blunt about his expectations. And the point was moot, because she wanted him as much as he wanted her. If she went through with next weekend's date, they'd end up in bed. Was she ready for that? She'd promised herself she wouldn't compromise, that when she slept with a man it would be out of mutual caring and commitment, not just sexual attraction. Then again, that had been an easy decision to make before she'd wanted someone the way she wanted Connor. The question was, what did a night in bed mean to him? And was she equipped to handle whatever that answer might be?
God, she was a mess.
Sitting across from her, Greg was charming as always, regaling her with the antics of his next-door neighbor's cat, who insisted on howling loudly for his breakfast each morning at five a.m. "It's like living with a rooster," he claimed, rolling his eyes. "I might as well throw out my alarm clock."
She gave an automatic smile, although her mind was only half on what he was saying.
"Julia?" He gave up the one-sided chat, propping his elbows on the table and leaning forward to study her. "Are you all right? You haven't said ten sentences in the last hour."
She sighed, laying down her fork. "I'm sorry, Greg. I'm having a hard time concentrating."
"Is it me?"
The question was almost ironic. "No, it's not you, it's me. I slept horribly last night."
His brows knit in concern. "Any particular reason?"
That was the two-million-dollar question. "Actually, yes. I was confused, and I wanted to talk to you about it."
Greg misinterpreted that, looking thoroughly self-satisfied as he took a healthy swallow of orange juice. "I'm flattered. And I'm pleased. Very pleased. I want you to come to me with your problems."
"I hope you'll feel that way after you hear what my . problem is." She took a deep breath, suddenly realizing she should have done this last week, rather than leave things hanging. "Greg, I like you. You're a great guy. We have fun together. But I have a feeling your take on this relationship is different from mine. I can't let you think..."
"Julia," he interrupted, now looking edgy rather than pleased. "I thought we went through this last week. I'm sorry I pushed you. It won't happen again—not until you're ready."
"That's just it. I don't think I'm going to be ready." Julia gripped her napkin tightly in her lap. She hated doing this. But it had to be done, no matter what ended up happening between her and Connor. The fact was, she'd never want more than friendship with Greg. She'd sensed that from the start, but now, after experiencing last night's blind rush of passion, she was sure of it. And it was unfair to keep Greg dangling.
"Greg, I meant what I said. It's not you, it's me. I can't help it—it's just not in the cards for us."
"I see." He shot her a wary look. "And what brought you to this conclusion?"
She sighed. "I think we both sensed this might be coming. I've tried to change the way I feel, but I can't. And you deserve better."
"Is there someone else?" he demanded bluntly.
She didn't avert her gaze. "I don't know. There might be. But, either way, that's not the issue."
Greg interlaced his fingers, rested his chin on them. "I didn't realize you were seeing anyone else."
"I wasn't. I'm not sure I am." She waved away her explanation in frustration. "I sound like a babbling idiot. The fact is, I went out to dinner with someone last night. The whole thing was very spontaneous. It was just a date."
"It must have been some date if it made you realize you and I are wrong for each other."
Julia felt hot color flood her face, color that broadcasted its confirmation of Greg's statement. She wished the floor could swallow her up. Why didn't she just hang up a sign announcing what had happened between her and Connor last night?
"Wow." Obviously, Greg didn't miss her reaction. His features lightened, but he kept a firm hold on his composure. "Tell me, where did you meet this guy? At your Friday night workshop?"
This was going to be the most awkward part of all.
"No, actually through Brian Stratford."
Greg blinked. "The mayor's son?"
"Yes. The guy I went out with is his uncle."
Slowly, Greg sank back in his chair. "You're seeing Connor Stratford?"
"I saw him," she corrected. "Once. I mean, we've met, before, a bunch of times, but nothing ever came of it."
"Until now." Greg pursed his lips thoughtfully. "And now he asked you out. For dinner, you said. It's quite a hefty drive from Manhattan just to spend a few short hours in a restaurant."
Julia got Greg's meaning, loud and clear. Normally, she'd be offended at his implication and his audacity at prying into what was none of his business. But under the circumstances, he deserved an explanation. "It was just for dinner. As for driving up from the city, he didn't. He's staying with the mayor and his family."
"Really? Since when?"
"Since Friday. Mayor Stratford is swamped these days. I don't need to tell you that. And now he ha
s the additional headache of whatever fallout arises from Councilman Kirson's auto theft. Brian's feeling a little low; he's used to spending lots of time with his dad. So Connor's filling in, devoting his time and attention to Brian."
"And to you, apparently."
She flushed again. "I told you, I don't know if that's going anywhere. Regardless, I apologize. I should have been honest with you—with both of us. I should have resolved things definitively a week ago. But I kept thinking something might develop..."
"You don't need to explain." Greg surprised her by reaching out, wrapping her fingers in his. "Julia, it's no secret that I have feelings for you. I'd be lying if I said otherwise. But I can't fault you for not sharing them. What I can do is hope you change your mind. I know you're saying otherwise, but fate works in strange ways. You've stated your case. I've accepted it. You're also still uncommitted to any new relationship. So, is there any reason we can't continue seeing each other—not romantically but as friends? No expectations, I promise."
Now, that reaction came out of left field, Julia thought, nearly gaping in surprise. She'd braced herself for a number of reactions—all unpleasant—but she'd never imagined that Greg would be so magnanimous. It just didn't fit. He was an ambitious man, one who was unwilling to settle for anything short of winning. What she'd expected was his anger at a perceived rejection. She figured he'd shoot her down, toss some bills on the table, and cut their brunch short. Yet here he was, taking the news right in his stride, actually suggesting they continue on as friends.
She didn't know what had prompted his amenable response, but she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders, she gave Greg's hand a quick squeeze. "I'd like that. Thanks for being so understanding."
"My pleasure." He brushed her fingers lightly before releasing them. "That's what friends are for."
1:45 p.m.
Understanding? Friends? Yeah, right.
Greg watched Julia pull out of the parking lot, flashing her an automatic smile and waving his good-byes. His smile vanished as soon as she turned onto the main road and disappeared from view.
Taut with annoyance, he climbed into his own car and slammed the door. He sat quietly for a long time, calming himself down, then evaluating what had just occurred and its ramifications.
His decision had been spontaneous. But it had been the right one, the only one.
Okay, so he'd eaten his pride. He didn't do it often, but there were times when it was necessary. This was one of those times. He had to keep a relationship with Julia going—on whatever terms he could. Oh, he didn't plan on giving her up. Not by a long shot. And in the end, he wouldn't have to. Connor Stratford would go back to New York and his thriving business, and Julia would find herself seeking a constant, someone she could count on. Well, he was that constant. And if he had to prove it by playing the role of her friend, he'd do it.
In the meantime, he had to stay plugged in. Today's turn of events might make that job even easier. Much as he hated the idea of Julia with another man, if that man was Connor Stratford, it could mean getting more information than ever.
Speaking of which...
Greg pulled out his cell phone and punched up a number.
"Yes?" Philip Walker answered.
"It's me."
"Good. Where do things stand? And be careful what you say. I don't like cell phones. They bring out my sense of paranoia. Too many cross-connections."
"Okay. You know yesterday's golf game was rained out. But I touched base with all six players. So did the mayor, incidentally. He worked on them for a good part of yesterday. It didn't help. They're still divided."
"How divided?"
"The mayor's one vote short. Most of the players are sticking with their belief that security should be separate from parking fees and that the taxpayers shouldn't bear the brunt of a few thefts. I'm sure he plans to keep working on them, especially after Friday night." A pause. "Which I assume was your doing? It had your trademark stamped all over it."
Walker's response was chilly. "I'm not sure what you mean."
"Yeah, right. Anyway, it was a smart move. I'm sure it scared the right people shitless." Realizing that Walker didn't intend to reply, he continued. "Let's get to Julia. I just left her. It seems that the mayor's brother is in town for a long stint. He's staying with the mayor and his family."
"Really? Now, that's interesting." There was a pause as Walker digested what he'd just been told. "My guess is he's here to bail his brother out—if he hasn't already. That will take care of the mayor's immediate problem. But not the long-term one." Walker's wheels were turning. "Let's see where he goes from here. I'll be in touch."
A definitive click.
7:45 P.M.
Julia was curled up in her living-room chair, reading Jimmy Thomas's "What I Wish For" essay. Typically, his wish was for a longer recess and less homework. Not a surprise, Julia noted with a twinkle of amusement. As bright as Jimmy was, he had the attention span of an active puppy.
She corrected one or two grammar mistakes, wrote "Good job" at the top of the page, and set his essay aside.
The pile of essays was now down to two. Julia massaged her temples. She was mentally shot, much too tired to be doing this now. She should have gotten to these earlier, but her weekend had been one colossal soap opera.
She turned to the next essay. Brian's. A grin tugged at her lips. No doubt, she was about to read two paragraphs on his aspiration to pitch for the Yanks in the next World Series.
An instant later, her grin vanished.
Brian's essay began:
I wish I could live with Uncle Connor. Just for a while. He's busy, too. But that doesn't make him so mad. We could play baseball in a big park. And it would be just him and me. I wouldn 't be in the way. And he wouldn't yell or cry. Then I could go home later.
The next paragraph was about how Connor had been coming over a lot lately to keep him company, but it would easier if he kept him company in "Manhatin" until his mom and dad said to come home.
Julia's heart dropped to her feet.
She slapped down the sheet of paper and grabbed her purse, rummaging around for the telephone number Connor had given her. It was Sunday night He was probably hanging out with his family—including Brian. That would make this conversation hard to orchestrate. Well, that was tough. Connor had insisted on being kept in the loop if a red flag went up. And this red flag couldn't wait.
She found his number and snatched up her phone.
Connor answered on the second ring. "Connor Stratford."
"It's Julia," she said tersely.
"Hi" His tone was measured, as if he wasn't at liberty. to talk.
The blare of a TV set in the background, along with the familiar sound of Brian's voice, explained why.
"Don't tell Brian it's me," Julia said quickly. "I need to talk to you alone. Can you excuse yourself?"
"Hang on." He cleared his throat. "Hey, ace," he called out over the TV show Brian was watching. "I've gotta take this call in my room. I'll be back in a few minutes."
"Okay" was Brian's magnanimous reply.
"I'll be right with you," Connor said in a low tone. Muffled movements, followed by the quiet click of a door. "Okay, we're alone. What's wrong?"
Julia didn't mince words. "I know the timing's lousy, but this is important. I gave my students an essay to write called 'What I Wish For.' I just read Brian's. Usually, he writes about baseball. This time, he wrote about how he wants to live with you because then he wouldn't be in the way. He wrote that you don't get mad or yell or cry. Connor, he's upset and confused. Whatever's going on is affecting him badly."
Connor swore under his breath.
"I can't just sit here and do nothing," Julia informed him. "I've got to ..."
"No, you don't." The Stratford in Connor kicked in. "Julia, remember that Brian wrote that essay before I moved in. I'm here now, for as long as he needs me. H
is state of mind will improve."
"Maybe. Maybe not. He's still living in a tense environment, an environment he counts on for security."
"I'll make sure he gets that security."
Carefully, Julia considered the situation and weighed her options. "You've got a point. But so do I. So here's the way I'll handle things. Tomorrow, when I give Brian back his essay, I'll talk to him. That's nothing unusual; I always chat with th&kids about their work. In this case, I'll take the opportunity to assess his state of mind. I hope I'll see an improvement. If not, you'll hear from me again. And Connor, I won't be intimidated. If I think it's necessary to bypass you and call your sister-in-law, I will."
A prolonged silence.
"Did you hear me?"
"I heard you," he replied. "But I don't think it'll be necessary."
"I hope not." She blew out her breath. "Anyway, I'll let you get back to Brian now. I said I'd call you about anything concerning him, and I did."
"I appreciate that." A brief pause. "How was brunch?"
Julia blinked at the sudden shift in gears. "Fattening."
"You know what I mean."
"It was very pleasant"
"Very pleasant," Connor repeated. "Not the way you'd describe last night's dinner, now, is it?"
"I'm not answering that."
"You don't have to. I was there. Did you tell him?"
Why did he manage to throw her off balance so easily? "Connor, I didn't call you to discuss Greg. I called to discuss Brian."
"And we discussed Brian. He's as much my priority as he is yours. In feet, I think we should discuss him again tomorrow, after you two talk. Meet me at Starbucks, around eight o'clock."
"For whose benefit, Brian's or yours?"
"Both," he returned flatly. "I want to make sure my nephew is okay. And I want to see you. I'm not playing games, if that's what you're implying. Nor am I using Brian's emotional state as bait. I told you we'd be getting together this week. In fact, I was going to call you after Brian went to sleep tonight. You just beat me to it."
